


easier

by youremyqueen



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: Comment Fic, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youremyqueen/pseuds/youremyqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your glasses are fogging up, Sidney."</p>
<p>written for the valentine's day porn comment ficathon on lj, prompt was: <i>dom!Tony coercing an all-too-easy Sid into doing it, obvs dirty talk on Tony's part transpires.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	easier

"Easy," Tony says, and Sid huffs to himself, rolls his eyes, because it's not like that.

Yeah, he's pressed to Tony's mattress and yeah, his shorts are around his ankles and yeah, Tony's breath is puffing hot and slow in his ears - "Can't believe you're a virgin, Sidney, not when you fold this easily," - but it's not like _that_.

Not like Annabelle or Buckteeth or any of the girls - or boys or anybody - who fall for Tony's curl of a smile, quick hands and clever words, all the things that seem so real on late nights but wither fake and see-through by morning. It's mid-afternoon and they're supposed to be revising for biology, but Tony's fingers move quick and Sid lets them, doesn't make a move to stop them. He's not easy, not really, wouldn't do this for just anybody, but -

It's Tony. Tony, who gave him his first spliff, who kissed him on the mouth in Year Eight because none of the girls would. It's Tony's tongue warm on his neck and Tony's quiet words against his ear, and it's not like Sid really has a choice here, would or could say no to Tony in him and on him and all around him, always there, a thing that slips in at the seams.

A constant necessity, a hand trailing down his stomach - ticklish, almost. Sid will do anything he asks.

Tony doesn't ask. He grazes his palm along Sid's cock, gently, removedly, stares down and watches him twist and buck with vague interest. "You're desperate, of course," he murmurs, thumb flicking across the top and, fuck, _fuck_ \- it's not as if Sid _isn't_ desperate, not really, it's just that it's not the way Tony's making it sound, not -

"Your glasses are fogging up, Sidney."

"Fuck off."

Shirt pushed up, face hot, this is pathetic, totally pathetic and Sid knows it - of course he knows it - but Tony's eyes are bright and his hips are pressed into Sid's thigh, grinding with little shifts, and it is _easy_ , so easy like this.

"Should I fuck you, then?" he asks, breath puffing against Sid's neck, one hand trailing down - fuck, those are Sid's balls - and that's, _that's_ -

_"Tony."_

"Hmm?"

"Just - fuck - lube or something, okay?" Sid says, face going hotter, turning away.

The sheets smell like detergent and sweat and he supposes Tony wanks in here - head back, eyes closed; thinks about Michelle, of course, who wouldn't? Fucks Michelle in here, too, probably. And does that make this wrong? Fucking around behind Chelle's back can't be good - but it's not like that, not really. Tony's not cheating, not with Sid, because _Tony and Sid_ goes without saying the same way that _Tony and Michelle_ does. Sid isn't some nobody, not to either of them, and Tony fucking Sid into his mattress - the one he fucks Michelle into - isn't any different than Tony taking him to breakfast or chatting with him on the green, calling him first thing in the morning, before Chelle, even. It's just how it is.

Tony's fingers are probing, curious, almost gentle - "Haven't ever done this to a bloke before," - and it's sort of awkward and not as fun as it should be and Sid is sweating way too much, he's sure, and he tries to keep Tony from noticing, because what if he throws him out, what if he decides biology would be more interesting, what is he _stops_?

"Christ, _ow_ ," he grits, stubby nails digging marks into Tony's arms.

"Don't be such a girl, Sid."

"Shut-up, I'm not, I'm - "

"You are. You're squirming like one. _Blushing_ like one."

Something shifts a bit and then Sid's hips snap and for some reason or another, Tony's fingers suddenly seem quite brilliantly placed. He gasps, can barely hear a thing over the sound of the breath caught in his throat.

"There we are now," Tony says, twists his fingers, curves the other hand around Sid's cock and squeezes tight, close, hot, fuck. "That's a boy," he murmurs, mouth curved sharply. "Think this is enough?" He licks along Sid's chest, his collarbone, and if he's expecting an answer then he'll be disappointed, because Sid's pretty sure he actually _can't breathe._ "Or shall I ring up Max and ask for some tips?"

Sid's eyes go wide and Tony's laugh is familiar, fondly cruel and warm on his skin, and it's absolutely terrible how much Sid wants this, but also rather to be expected, simply a matter of course.

He tries to tell Tony to get bent, tries to form words properly, but his head thrills and Tony's hands keep moving, pressing, grabbing - it's almost obscene, objectifying - and he says things that make Sid's hips thrust and his thighs spread. Thing like, "Are you sure you want me to do it, spoil your chastity and all that?" and, "Calm down, Sidney, you're ruining my trousers," and, "You're not even thinking about her, are you? No, of course you're not."

It's long past the time that, theoretically, Sid thinks that Tony should have, well, _put it in_ , but he doesn't. Just keeps at it with his fingers, keeps whispering quiet, clever, mocking things that make Sid's face heat up and his eyes roll back, breath heaving out unevenly.

"Aren't you going to - " Sid gasps, voice croaky and small and completely pathetic.

"Nah," Tony says, casually, like it's nothing. "I'll leave the honor to Cass." And maybe it's the words and maybe it's Tony's hand on his balls, but Sid comes then, loudly and with little decorum, spilling on his stomach as Tony watches on with far-off, considering eyes.

As Sid gets his breath back, he thinks they're going to leave it there, just go back to biology, because that's rather how Tony is, but he's barely got his head back before he's being pressed down into the mattress again. Tony's hand slips between them, undoes his own fly, and his hips jam roughly into Sid's, palm quick and careful, mumbling something that sounds like, _"Easy,"_ but could also be, _"Sidney."_ He presses down like a weight, familiar and frightening and warm. He smells good.

His hair is soft against Sid's chin and his face twists rather comically when he comes, eyes closed and head bent, fingers digging into the sheets. Sid watches, thinks hazy things and likes this more than he should like this, sort of wishes Tony _had_ fucked him and is sort of really glad he didn't.

It's a long moment before Tony sits up, heavy and slow, sated smile slipping onto his face as he reaches over for a spliff, tosses Sid a box of tissue.

"So biology, then?"


End file.
